


Recovery

by Nanyoky



Series: Just Us [4]
Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, District 13, Gen, Humor as a coping mechanism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Victors, victors joking about things they shouldn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 13:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6285649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanyoky/pseuds/Nanyoky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finnick and Katniss recover with not a little difficulty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short companion piece to check in on Finnick while Annie is in the capital. You don't need to read the rest of the fic in this series to understand this one.

Thirteen was uniform and cold. They only let hospital patients have thin gowns and leggings. It felt like punishment. Finnick and Katniss both complained about being punished for breaking, but the staff insisted that they would only be allowed standard wardrobes once they were "fully recovered." They laughed about it together until they couldn't breathe. Those were the good days. When he could focus on Katniss's grim humor and she didn't scream at him about Peeta and Annie until he cried. 

"They probably think you'll hang yourself if you had a sweater to unravel."

"I might. Did you see how short my rope is?"

"I could ask for one. Then we could tie them together and take turns."

"Now you're thinking, Girl on Fire."

She disappeared for days sometimes and there was always a mad scramble to find her. Finnick laughed as they scurried up and down each hall, checking under every bed. They always asked him where she was and he pretended not to hear. It was one of Annie's favorite strategies. Lying with the truth, like Mags had taught them. If he was going to have this much trouble focusing, he might as well use it as an excuse to ignore questions he didn't like. 

They let him have fairly free reign over the hospital, and his schedule was set almost permanently as 'recovery' with a few minor changes in meal times. To be sure he didn't lose track and miss them, he spent most of his time in the small cafeteria set up for patients.

"And she started bringing back plants for us to eat. Then game."

"What?"

Finnick didn't know how long the young nurse sitting at his table had been talking to him. She smiled and pushed a tray of food across to him.

"I was just thanking you for helping to save my sister."

Sister. Her grey eyes and high cheekbones were definitely familiar.

"Prim."

Another smile. She smiled a lot more than Katniss. "That's right."

"You're a nurse here?"

"Yes."

"Aren't you a little young?"

Prim shrugged. She went on talking about her training in the hospital as he ate, occasionally pausing to allow him to speak, then going on when he didn't. Once her break was over, she gave him a cheery wave and strode off in the direction of the sick ward.

After the first time, Prim sat with him almost every day, talking about her studies in medicine, her family and her cat. After a few days, he was able to contribute to the conversation.

"Mags has a cat." He didn't bother correcting the tense. It was hard enough getting a sentence out once. Prim bombarded him with questions so fast that his mind forgot to struggle with the answers.

"What is its name?"

"Captain."

"Boy or girl?"

"Girl."

"What color? How old? Is she friendly?"

"Sandy with black face and feet. I don't know, old. Yeah, but only with people she knows."

Soon he found he could talk to Prim most days and even on the days he couldn't, she filled the gaps without comment. Soon they were collaborating on knots that would make more secure sutures. 

"Finnick Odair, stop flirting with my sister."

He gave Prim a wink before turning an affronted look on Katniss. It didn't even take that much effort.

"Who me? I'm just having lunch. Far too mad to flirt with anyone."

Katniss grinned at the old joke. She sat with her sister and kissed her on the head.

"Finally found your lunch time. How've you been, Little Duck?"

Prim filled her in on all the goings on of the hospital, especially how her and Finnick's knots had been adopted by all the trauma surgeons. Katniss was distracted, but nodded and smiled along with her. She kept glancing at Finnick as if waiting for him to leave. 

"See you tomorrow, Prim. I have some serious raving and frothing on my therapist to do."

Katniss cackled, but Prim frowned. Most people didn't know how to respond to mad jokes. That's why Annie loved them so much. 

Katniss found him sometime later in his room. She sat next to him and watched his hands as he tied and untied his worn rope. 

"They're sending me up to Twelve." She sounded like she had said it more than once.

"Sorry- Twelve. The ruins. Makes sense. They want you angry, not sad. You're no good to them like this."

"You'd think they'd be worried I'll break again."

Finnick shrugged. "You must be worth the risk."

"Lucky me."

"Better you than me."

She snorted. "Don't see why it's me. You'd be a better mockingjay. You're the good actor."

He gave her a wry smile. "Ah yes, but my character is the Capital favorite. Everyone knows that character, and how could the districts trust someone the Capital adores so much?" He turned back to the rope. This topic was hard. He didn't want to spiral out of focus. "I've always been theirs."

"And I belong to the districts," her voice was quiet. "To the rebellion."

She was starting to understand now. She was young. Sometimes he forgot. She tried so hard to act like an adult that he sometimes found himself taken in by her clumsy farce. Finnick tried to remember what he had been like at seventeen. Maybe quicker on the uptake, but not nearly as brave. Too bad he couldn't find the words to explain it all to her. It might have made things easier.

"Means to an end," he muttered, unsure if she could hear. "When someone uses you, make sure you know it. And look out for opportunities to use them."

He could tell from the look on her face that it hadn't come out right. Not pitying. Katniss didn't do pity. But sad and uncomfortable. Maybe even disgusted. But she tried. She hadn't given up on him yet, and he was grateful. It was hard for her, he could tell. Maybe she thought he was so past help it didn't matter what she said to him or what he said in return. He couldn't blame her for looking at him like this.  He'd probably just thought the words and recited Mags's oyster stew recipe instead, for all he knew.

"Don't listen to me," he concentrated hard on the words to be sure they came out right this time, but waved a casual hand. "Go to Twelve like they want you to. Might help you decide."


End file.
